Rebuild Part III: The Frozen North
by cfulling3
Summary: China and the European Union have expanded into the U.S. causing the Cold War to heat up. A bio-weapon has been engineered, only adding fuel to the flames. Jackson has been destroyed and the survivors have been scattered. Most have fled north into Canadian wilderness or to the east into Russian territory.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Siege

_Present Day_

Casey- Wyoming

I put the bandana I'm wearing back over my mouth and have it rest on the bridge of my nose and tighten my hood around the black baseball hat underneath it. The blizzard was making it really hard for the patrol, which had Maria, Ellie, a person named Houser, and I in it to see clearly on the way back to the dam. I almost walked into Maria's hand when she put it up and signaled for us to get behind cover. It took me a second to figure out why. Human shapes. Barely visible through the snow and hunched over in a position that indicated they had weapons. I counted three. One of them shined a flashlight into the bushes Ellie was in, and hesitated before moving. It's impossible to tell his expression not just from the storm, but from metal mask covering everything but his eyes.

He kicked the bush then pointed a strange looking gun at it and shouted when he hit Ellie. She crawled out one hand in the air. When she was in open ground, he kicked her hard enough to make her squeak. He buried her head into the ground with the barrel of his rifle. The other two came by, holding rifles similar to the other one. The one with their knee digging into her back shouted at her, "Are you alone?!"

"Y-yes," She stammered. Her voice was muffled through the snow.

"I think you're lying to us." In a louder voice he called out, "We know you're hiding! Come out with your hands up or she dies!"

I'm not about to let her die, but I know they'll kill us if we cooperate. I slowly get to the ground while pulling my suppressed rifle off my back and aim down the sights. I was at a good enough angle to shoot one in the head, causing his head to bobble as the round tore through and hit the person behind him in the hip. He screamed as he hit the ground, clutching his side. The remaining one took his gun off Ellie to scan the forest, allowing her to get up, knock his gun away, and plunge her switchblade into his neck. The man who was shot in the hip was bleeding out, writhing around and trying slow the blood flow. Ellie picked up his rifle and shot him in the head, jumping when a burst of rounds came out instead of just one.

"Holy shit, what the hell is this thing?" She said.

Houser went over and took it, looking down the sights and examining it. "Some type of machine gun," He saw the blank look in my eyes and explained, "A type of weapon that fires more shots the longer you hold down the trigger." He looked down at the man's armor then continued, "Judging from the model, and the Chinese flag on his shoulder, I'm guessing it's a Type-95."

Before Ellie or I could ask what a Chinese is, the massive boom of thunder cut us off. A few seconds later, we heard an even bigger bang. "Uh… what the hell was that?" I asked, pretty certain it wasn't thunder.

Houser looked at Maria worriedly before the sound of an alarm blaring sent them running. He barked at Ellie and I, "You two, stay hidden! Do _NOT_ go back to Jackson under any circumstances!"

Brandon- Wyoming

I ducked to avoid a large piece of shrapnel from the explosion. I felt sick and out of breath from the shock wave. I got up and leaned against the wall, holding my stomach and trying to get back to reality. I'm not sure if the alarm is blaring yet or my ears are ringing, probably both. I heard another, smaller blast in the distance. I snapped out of it when I heard gunshots. I crept into the house I was next to when a round pierced the air right next to me, forcing me to run into the building. A sniper.

Whatever fired that artillery wasn't shooting anymore, so I'm guessing they've got people inside the city. I peeked out slightly, about five people were hunched down in the street, with laser sights making bright red or green lines in the snow storm. The person in the front motioned one of them to search the building I was in and sent two more down an alley. He and the remaining person ran the other direction.

I ducked back into building completely and waited for the person to enter the doorway before grabbing the gun underneath the bridge, and grabbed the knife on his chest before he could react and stuck it in his neck. I spun him around so I would be holding him in by his neck. I dragged him inside before checking his gear. An assault rifle with four spare magazines, a knife, a pair of binoculars with three buttons I'll investigate later, and a small travelling pack.

_Alright, time to find the morning patrol, and get the hell out of here._ I stepped around the door, forgetting about the sniper until the wall next to me exploded. I ducked down and got into cover instantly, surprised for a second. I quickly shut the door and army crawled to the back door. Two people running by the house, both of them citizens of Jackson, were gunned down by a hail of gunfire, one survived and was writhing around on the ground. The person who killed them walked up and pinned them down by the head before cutting their throat. He contacted a person through the handheld radio on his vest, speaking in Chinese.

I let him walk past before going outside and heading the other way. I made my way through an alley near the marketplace, moving to cover with every gunshot, no matter how distant it was.

I rounded a corner at the same time as one of the raiders. He knocked me to the ground and pointed his gun at my head, I rolled away before the ground I was on had kicked up. I quickly got up while uppercutting him in the stomach. I grabbed his weapon and pulled it out of his arms. I started to shoulder it but he kicked my stomach and used the momentum to kick me again in the head. I dropped the weapon and barely managed to keep him from cutting my neck. I pulled his arm behind me and brought my knee into his stomach, then slipped behind him, pulling the knife out to cut his throat. He grabbed my arm and elbowed me in the stomach twice before flipping me over him. He kicked me in the head, causing me to spit blood out and rolled me over then put a knife to my throat.

Before he cut my throat, a bullet went through his head. Joel came over and kicked his body off me. The barrel of the .38 revolver he carries everywhere was still smoking as he helped me up. "You alright?" He spoke gruffly.

I nodded as I got up, spitting blood. "Friends of the man you executed?"

"Looks that way."

I scoffed and started moving, Joel picked up the other rifle and started walking next to me. I glanced at him and asked, "The electric fence down?"

Joel nodded and said, "They shot the dam after the one we were caught in. No power in the entire city."

Well, there's some good news, I don't need to go out the front gate and risk getting sniped. I sat down in front of a garbage can that was mostly rust at this point, "How's the state of the town, other than the obvious?"

He shrugged, "No idea. I think everybody's either dead or bailed. From what I've seen and heard, there's at least ten people inside the city."

"I got shot at by at least one sniper a little bit ago. Then there's whatever is the artillery they were using."

Joel looked to be thinking hard before speaking, "What side of the town were they on?"

"Northeast, I think. What're you thinking?"

"If we're quick and quiet enough, we can get out through the south fence without drawing attention; the buildings there should provide cover for us to get out of here and find our kids safely."

The plan made sense, however simple. I nodded, "Let's do this."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Moving

_One Week Later_

Vasily Aristov- Nebraska

We've picked up rumors of a safe haven not connected to FEDRA in the next state over while our recon was at a small camp set up by a group of survivors. While this isn't overly concerning, but if they start expanding, it could put a stall in our efforts to reclaim the country for the EU, one that could potentially allow the Chinese to hit the West Coast before defenses have been established; if they haven't landed already.

At least, I thought it wouldn't be concerning, until I learned that they had control of the Snake River. Unless we negotiated some form of passage across, there's a chance we'd have to go through Canada, or into the South; which was torn to shit by the Cordyceps. Both of those options would delay our-

My thoughts were cut off by grunting and the sounds of a struggle. I turned around to see Boris and Inge holding the arms of somebody who had a bag over their head and blood splattered on their T-shirt. Inge spat in German, "_Dieser Teufel versuchte, Wüste gefangen._" (This fuck was caught trying to desert.) He pulled the bag off, revealing the man was Stephen. I wasn't that surprised it was him, he's been terrified of being a part of this since Lexington; but that didn't mean I wasn't pissed at him.

I punched him in his already bruised and cut up face. I ordered Boris to bring everybody so I can make an example out of him. Inge dropped his other arm and let him drop, when he tried to stand up I kicked him in the cheek. I was careful to not allow the steel cleats on the bottom of my boots to not dig into his head. "You want to fucking abandon the mission?" I growled at him, "You want to keep your own country a desolate shithole?" I had knelt down and grabbed his head before smashing his face into the snow. I got up and stomped on his stomach, twisting my foot and pushing it down into him before pulling it out; leaving blood soaking his shirt.

"Fuck you…" He croaked, clutching his side in agony.

I laughed and kicked him in the side again before stomping on his arm twisting into the bone. I heard it start to crack and pulled my foot out. "Come on! Get the fuck up! You want to leave?! You have to fight for that right!" He started to get up slowly, but it wasn't fast enough; so I kicked him hard in the stomach. "Come on, you _blya cherv_, get up!" (fucking worm).

He got up, at a slightly faster rate and swung his fist at me. I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the ground closest to me and kneed him in the nose. I growled into his ear, "That's your fucking best?"

He coughed and hooked my leg with his foot, then tripped me. He got on top of me and got a few punches in before I grabbed his hand and put my other hand on his arm. He tried to pry my hand off, but underestimated the steel grip I have. I moved my arms in opposite directions, causing a sick sounding snap as his arm broke. He screamed in agony while I pushed him off. The screams worsened as I slowly started to crush his head under my boot.

"P-please… don't kill me," He whimpered.

I thought for a second before easing the pressure on his head, growling, "Are you going to try and run away again?"

"N-no."

I got off him and kicked him in the side before turning to Boris and speaking in a more casual tone, "Take him out of here." I turned to to the large crowd of EU Crisis Response and ex-FEDRA that had been gathered to watch Stephen get the shit beaten out of him. "Anybody else want to be an insubordinate fuck?" I shouted at them. When nobody spoke up, I went back to thinking about how to negotiate passage through the safe haven's territory.

Casey- Wyoming

_Present Day_

I absent-mindedly pulled my bowie knife across the rock I use to sharpen it. I could faintly hear Ellie pacing back and forth as she waited for somebody to come back and inform us about what happened. The blizzard's died down by now and the sun is out, making the heavy layer of snow shine brightly.

Abraham's dog tags were beginning to freeze from the cold that cut through my hoodie and heavy coat. Despite my resistance, I couldn't stop thinking about him. He not only saved my life, but he stayed with me while my leg healed and while my brain tried to heal the damage done by It. It took a while, but I eventually grew to view him as a father when I thought my actual dad was dead. I still don't know if he had a motive other than helping me out; but it doesn't matter. He's dead because I couldn't kill that damned Clicker fast enough to shoot the Runner off him.

"Casey- Casey, what's wrong?" Ellie's voice pulled me out of my trance. I felt small wet pools soaking into my bandanna. I didn't realize I was even crying.

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine. I was just remembering an old friend." I responded, wiping away the tears continuing to well up in my eyes. The concern in her eyes shifted to understanding. She was about to respond when some loud, rumbling noise echoed through the forest moving closer. "What the fuck is that?" I asked nervously, becoming scared at the horrified look in her eyes.

"Oh shit, we need to move!"

Ellie- Wyoming

_Present Day_

I've only seen them a few times in Boston, and only seen them in action once. But I've never forgotten what it is and what it does. A fucking tank. The military had sent them rolling through Boston a couple times as a scare tactic, even using them against a Firefly encampment a day after Marlene had me relocated out of it.

I pulled her off the ground and started to run in the opposite direction of the tank. Careful to leave as short of a trace possible, even though the snow that's falling will take care of any trail. We ran until we couldn't hear the engine anymore, which was until we ran into a decaying warehouse. I closed the door behind us and said while panting, "I think we're clear. You okay?"

She shrieked in terror and pain in response. I turned around to see her struggling feebly underneath a Runner, it's jaws clamped on her shoulder and blood soaking through the layers of fabric.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is mainly a question for people who've read the past two stories I've posted, and if you haven't read them, I suggest doing so; but which of the OC's do you like the best, and which ones do you want to see killed off?**

Chapter 3: Bitten

_Present Day_

Casey- Wyoming

My head is trapped in a fog. Tears are flowing down my cheeks and my shoulder is on fire. I'm curled up in a ball on a moss and dust covered wooden desk. I'm dead.

Ellie is wrapping my shoulder, covering what has been done to me. I don't know why she's going through the trouble. She isn't talking or looking at me, thankfully. I can't handle hearing her speak, looking into her green eyes at what I've been taken from.

The asshole who bit me was lying dead in the front entrance. It took Ellie a bloody nose and five minutes to pull me away from his body, I pretty much turned him into a bloody pulp and removed his head from existence.

I finally worked up the nerve to talk to her. "Why haven't you left?"

She looked at me, pain in her eyes and a small trickle of blood on her nose. "I'm not leaving you, Casey."

Her words did nothing to comfort me, they just became another, more painful weight on me than my impending death. "Why? I'm going to turn into one of them. I- I don't want to hurt you." I had to choke the last sentence out. I started to cry more at the prospect of going insane and tearing her apart.

She sighed and got up on the table next to me, gently placing her hand on mine. She looked like she was fighting back tears of her own when she starts speaking, "I can just shoot you now, and get it over with," She said, pulling her gun out and putting it down, "But I won't."

I stared at her, wondering what I did to make her want to put me through this. "There's a million ways we could've died before today," She continued, "And… a million ways we could die before tomorrow. But, we fight. We fight for every moment we get. Whether… whether it's two minutes, or two days," She started to let her tears flow silently, "I'm not- _we're_ not giving that up. Casey, if you want to take the easy way out, go ahead. I'm not stopping you. But, if you want to fight this, then I'm staying with you."

I thought for a minute, letting my tears stop falling before leaning into the spot between her head and shoulders and pushing my head into her neck. "Hey, Ellie." I said weakly, suddenly incredibly tired.

"Yeah?"

"Promise me that when I turn… you- you won't let me hurt you." I said, closing my eyes.

She choked on her response, but managed to say, "I promise," before I gave in to the darkness.

I woke up feeling incredibly sore and thirsty. I don't know how long I've been out, but it was night time now, and my two jackets were gone. I tried to pull my arms down, only to find them immobile. I looked at them to find them handcuffed to a metal pipe. Panicking, I called out, "Ellie?!"

I heard scuffling and somebody ran over. "I'm here, what do you need?"

I calmed down more than I should've at hearing her voice, "Nothing, just wondering if you handcuffed me."

She turned on a battery-powered lantern and set down, allowing me to see. She pulled a tiny key out of her pocket. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I didn't want you to kill me in case you turned when I slept. How are you feeling?"

"That's not a bad idea. I'm fine, just very sore and a little thirsty." She pulled a water bottle out, and put it to my mouth telling me to drink. I swallowed and said, "Thanks. How long have I been out?"

"Around twelve hours. Do you… do you want to check on the bite?"

I sighed at the reminder of my death, "Why not?"

She pulled the collar of my flannel and tank top off my shoulder and took the bandage off. She gasped and an excited look went across her eyes, "Casey, look!" I complied, turning my head to look at the bite.

The bite looked almost the exact same from when it happened, only it was beginning to scab over and showed no signs of turning worse, except for the small white splotches sprouting up in a ring around the center of the bite. My eyes widened in surprise at the condition I was in, "That doesn't mean anything, does it?" I asked, afraid of the answer, but hopeful.

"It might. I've seen people in far worse condition than you an hour or two after being bit, but I've also seen people in better condition a day and a half after they've been bitten. It's just a game of wait and see now." She sounded just as hopeful as I felt, but uncertain as well.

Her words did crush my hopes that maybe I wouldn't actually turn. That, by some miracle, I'd be immune like her. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I shoved my head into her chest before letting them fall. She held my head and pulled me closer until I stopped crying.

When I calmed down, I glanced up at her, my head still buried into her chest. "E-ellie…" I whimpered, not caring that I sounded like a five-year-old.

"Yeah?"

"I- I d-don't want to die."

She pulled away and cupped my head in her hands. She looked like she wanted to say something, but ended up just kissing me softly on the lips, wrapping my shoulder, then going over to a makeshift bed.

Ellie- Wyoming

_Present Day_

What the hell was I supposed to say? The last time I said something in a situation like this to a person I loved like I love her… the world took them away from me.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Wyoming

_Present Day_

Brandon- Wyoming

I held two thick wires apart, allowing Joel to slip through the electric fence. The blizzard was starting to die down, but it was still snowing pretty heavily. I turned away from the snowfall, took my hood off, and put my gas mask on before putting my hood back on. Joel looked at me confusedly and said, "What are you doing?"

"Keeping the snow out of my face better than with my hand." I responded.

He nodded and put his own mask on, muttering, "That makes sense."

We walked in silence for about ten minutes before I asked, "Who all was in the patrol?"

Joel scratched the back of his head before saying, "Your daughter, Ellie, Houser, and Maria." He looked at me and saw the blank look in my eyes before continuing, "Maria's one of the leaders of the town. Houser is a former PMC and engineer. And, you already know who Ellie is."

I nodded, "Yeah, one of Casey's friends and your surrogate." My response caused Joel to chuckle, "What the hell is so funny?"

His eyes lost their amused look, "Oh, your daughter hasn't told you yet, has she?"

"Told me what?" I asked, growing suspicious.

He looked uncomfortable and was about to respond before two voices interrupted him. We went to cover and he raised his revolver, only to lower it a second later and say, "Maria and Houser."

I lowered my rifle and asked, "The girls with them?" He peeked out then turned to me and shook his head. "Should we take our gas masks off and go out to meet them, or let them pass?"

He looked again, "They're headed towards Jackson, we go out and meet them." I nodded in response and pulled off my gas mask. Joel did the same and holstered his pistol, going out with his hands up and shouted, "Hey! It's Joel and Brandon!"

I went out of the underbrush, my rifle at position I wouldn't shoot them in. They looked startled and raised their weapons, lowering them when they saw us. Maria ran over, and went straight to Joel, "What happened in Jackson?"

He shook his head and stated, "Small group of bandits or something got a hold of artillery and-"

The loud crack of a sniper round tearing through the air cut him off.

Tommy- Wyoming

_Present Day_

A short, decently groomed man wearing a thick suit of body armor over everything but his head sat across the table from me. He didn't have a look of triumph on his face; but how could he? He pretty much just did the equivalent of kicking a sick dog while it's down. Instead, he just had a cold stare that would put Joel to shame. He spoke in a quiet voice, thick with a Chinese accent, "I trust it was a quick death?"

I shrugged, "More or less. He got under my brother's skin and got what was coming."

He grinned, shaking his head, "Oh, I always told Tzu that would be what got him killed. He obviously didn't listen," He held out a hand, like he thought I'd shake it, "I'm Lieutenant Xao Chen. Who are you?"

I looked at his hand in disgust, "Do you really expect me to shake your hand after your men have killed one-hundred and thirty seven civilians, most of which were unarmed?"

His eyes flashed and he said, "Fair enough, now, who are you?"

I sighed, "Tommy Miller."

"You the leader of this town?"

"I guess, considering everybody else who was on the council are either dead or missing in action."

He laughed mirthlessly then flatly stated, "No you're not. This town is now the property of the East Asia Crisis Response. You will surrender all firearms and allow total military occupation of the city. Failure to comply will result in the execution of everybody in the town."

Vasily Aristov- Wyoming

_One Week After Jackson_

_I was caught in the mudslide. I felt one of my men try to grab me, but missed. I hit a rock that was exposed by the rain. I rolled off into the jungle, feeling my right leg break with the hard impact. Gritting my teeth, I stood up, only to be tackled by a Stage-One. It's teeth were bouncing harmlessly off of the hardened plastic that made up my gas mask. I reached out with my right hand, desperate to find a weapon. I found the handle of a blade and brought it up, slicing through its neck. I got up and hit another charging Stage-One with what I recognized as a slightly rusted kukri. I stuffed the blade into my utility belt and spun around, pulling my AK-12 off my back and taking out two more. I heard the distinct clicking of the Stage-Three before I felt its teeth bounce harmlessly off my body armor. I threw my elbow into its stomach and spun around. I shot it three times before it hit the ground. I took the minute of a breather I had to shoulder my rifle and kill two more of them. I quickly reloaded my rifle and shot the Stage-Ones on my right side. _

_I heard a deep, resonating growl echo through the jungle. My stomach dropped when a Stage-Four crashed through trees. I aimed at the spore clusters above its chest and pulled the trigger. My heart stopped when the gun clicked, signifying I was out of ammo. I patted the ammo pouches on my vest, to find them empty. The Stage-Four reached out to grab my head, but it misjudged the distance. It tore through the plastic of my mask and cut deep into my skin. I went to the ground, pulling the kukri out and stabbing up in between its legs. I went around it as fast as possible with a broken leg and jumped on it, hacking it in the neck. It shook me off and sent me to the ground. It stomped on my stomach with a rotting foot, causing me to spit out blood. It went to stomp again, but I rolled out of the way. I got up again, one hand on my stomach and the other on the kukri. I rushed it, stabbing the bloated horror several times in the stomach before it turned me around and pulled my mask off. One rotted hand grabbed my bottom jaw, splitting my lip in the process. The other hand grabbed my lip, thinking it was teeth. It pulled the skin back, sending a jolt of adrenaline and agony through me as its fingers tore across my face. Realizing I wasn't dead, It grabbed my teeth and started pulling again. I felt my bottom jaw get torn off its hinge. I can feel death coming, but not to me. The creature was slowing down. Blood loss took care of it, but I wasn't going to be caught off guard by a final burst of strength. I reached up with the kukri, feeling the blade slide between its ribs and the grip loosen. I hacked its arm and felt the muscle stop working. I got out of the grip and moved the knife in my hand to the position more suited for stabbing. I climbed onto the monster and stabbed it several times in the cluster over its heart, the blade rendering everything in its path useless._

_I stopped stabbing at Boris's voice behind me, "Holy. Shit."_

I woke up, panting heavily. It's been years since I relived those events, and hoped I never would again. I was out of combat for nineteen months as I recovered from a broken leg and the other damage: seven crushed ribs, two of which had to be replaced with a metal plate, my stomach had been smashed as well, thankfully I hadn't eaten; that's what could've killed me. The most noticeable damage was to my face, which bears the scars of what I've gone through. I was only brought back into combat after I… 'persuaded' my CO.

I pulled out _Jarovit_, the kukri I found back then and kept. I named it after one of the old Slavic gods of war. After looking over the lines I carved into it with the standard issue combat knife, I started to clean and sharpen it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Puppetmaster

_Present Day_

Ivan Groves- Washington DC

I stormed out of the room that's been turned into a makeshift lab. Of all the people that the Americans could've given me as assistants, they gave me a klutz and an idiot. Five samples. That's how many they've destroyed. Five samples that could've saved the human race, all gone because of them. I've told them three times how to care for the cloves, but it goes through one's head like hot air and the other trips over it. I demanded that my son William help me, but that fuck-wit Russian Admiral transferred him to a town outside of the newly reclaimed Boston QZ. The convoys that have been sent to reclaim the continent have only found a single person with the Second Strain, and the five samples all came from his brain.

I didn't realize I was outside until I felt the cold bite of the winter air through my rage. I sat down and lit a cigarette. We were so close. They had all that necessary in Utah, but they're all fucking dead. I've never met the man Marlene mentioned… I can't even remember his name. It doesn't matter, once Vasily or the other three generals leading the convoy find anybody matching his description, they're good as dead. I told Marlene that he was no longer useful, but he'd be a liability. I told her to kill him, but she refused, saying he'd be the only one who knew the weight of her 'decision'. Like she thought there was a choice involved, I guess there was for her. Live, or die by what she thought was her militia. Well, it doesn't matter. She's dead now, and there's another Second on the loose.

_Wasn't it a young girl?_ I don't know where the thought came from, but it was there. I fought against the fog covering my memories until I got to what I needed. _Elizabeth Williams. That's it. That's what Marlene called it, but the name is that of a female._ I was confused for a second, why would its sex change anything about finding a cure? _The Second Strain can be passed on through genetic inheritance, remember?_ I came to a sickening realization at what my conscience was saying. It can be passed down to the offspring, but that doesn't make it right. But, why the hell am I thinking about morals right now? The entire human race is in danger, and I can save it, but I'm thinking about what's right and wrong; funny how the human mind works.

All that I need to do is pull a few strings, get a hold of her or another female Second, and let the rest work itself out. I'd have a near endless supply of Seconds to work with.

_What about the Russian general?_ My moment of celebration was cut short by the thought. Vasily Aristov, former Spetsnaz and Russian military officer. Supposedly discharged after he waged a total war on the Middle East and northern Africa that ended in a nuclear blast. Turns out he was simply demoted then promoted to 'field general'. He isn't called 'the modern Adolf' for no reason. The man has been a thorn in my side almost the second we met. He either just doesn't like me, or he doesn't like the work I'm doing. I doubt it's the latter, he doesn't seem like the type of religious person that doesn't want a cure since 'this plague is God's punishment on mankind for its sins.' or a member of one of the cults that arose after the outbreak. So I don't see why he'd not want a cure to be produced.

Oh, well. He proves to be a burden, I just need to pull some more strings, and he's gone. I gave a tight smile as a plan formed in my head. Nothing about it was moral, but who cares about morals nowadays?

Vasily Aristov- Wyoming

_Present Day_

"_Kto , chert voz'mi, on dumayet, chto on yest'?!_" (Who the FUCK does he think he is?!) I shouted, punching the light armored vehicle next to me, then ignoring the throbbing pain in my hand.

"Sir, calm down! What are you talking about?" I heard the voice of one of the FEDRA soldiers behind me.

I spun around and snarled at him, "Don't you dare fucking tell me to calm down when that piece of shit is still breathing!"

He threw his hands up and said, "Okay, don't calm down, but just tell me why you stormed out the meeting and cold-cocked an LAV."

I forced myself to calm down slightly so I wouldn't be shouting at the poor bastard in front of me, "The Doctor has put out an order requesting we send back any female Seconds, he no longer has interest in male ones."

"So? I don't really see how that changes things, we're still on our mission to reclaim the continent, right?"

I laughed bitterly, disgusted by my own naivety and that of my units, "No, this was never about reclaiming the continent. My leader and the Doctor couldn't give less of a fuck about the seventy-five million people that are starving, or the survivors of the Spore on your continent. All they care about is their damned cure."

He gave a small chuckle and said sarcastically, "And that's a bad thing?"

"Think about it, American. The development of a cure could potentially bring us to _war_." I paused and said, "Also, it isn't a bad thing that he only wants girls that are twenty or younger?"

He looked at me and said in a confused voice, "I'm not sure I fo-"

I hit myself in the face and said, "You're a fucking idiot. The Cordyceps doesn't attack the reproductive system, and it can be spread to the offspring. That's how the Second Strain originated, the First Strain got into the system of a pregnant woman a day or two before the child is born, the spore goes into the child's system, and somehow fuses into the blood and brain cells of the child, thinking it's a part of those cells and then acts as part of the immune system."

His face said he was starting to understand what I was talking about, "You mean that…"

I nodded, giving him a greenish tint that said he may get sick literally, "Yes. He's pretty going to turn a fucking _child_ into breeding stock; and he's using us to bring him his bounty."

He shook his head, "No… there's no way Ethan would authorize that."

I rolled my eyes, "He's not in charge anymore, we took over FEDRA. He's just another puppet for the puppetmaster. Just another pawn in the game. Just another person under the control of the Doctor." I turned around and began to walk away, saying, "I never claimed to be a good person, but at least I'm not a fucking monster, or the monster's plaything. Which begs the question: Are you going to be another toy the Doctor uses then throws away, or are you going to refuse to play?"

I heard his footsteps behind me, I expected as much, "So, what happens if he develops the cure?"

"I know the type of person he is; one of three things will happen, Option One: he gives it to China or the EU; causing the Cold War we're in to boil over and turn into an all-out war. Option Two: he sells it to the highest bidder, which will lead to the same result as Option One. Option Three: He uses it as blackmail, you don't get access to the cure unless you bend to his will. That option has a different result than the other two, but still fucked up. The result is he owns the world."

He glanced at me and said, "How do you propose stopping him, if you are right?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, I only know that I'm not playing along."

"So how is that going to do anything?"

I sighed, "It won't, but I'll be executed if I try anything, hell, I'm taking a huge risk talking about this openly, the Germans and many Russians have bent to his will already, he's pretty much the leader of the EU at this point."

"Well, is there anybody else that could help?" He pressed.

A thought came to my mind, but it seemed incredibly stupid, "Possibly, but we're not exactly on… speaking terms right now."

"What happened?"

"Well… my country fired a couple missiles filled with the Spore Canisters at his."

He stopped, "Well, you didn't have anything to do with that, right?"

I shook my head, "No, I didn't play a part in that, but I doubt it'd matter."

"Well, you have to at least fucking _try_, because if you're right, this man is too fucked up to continue this shit!"

I sighed, "Fine, I'll give it a fucking try."

He smiled, "Good, what's his name?"

I went into the ruined cabin I was using as a temporary house before we move out, before I closed the door, I turned towards him and said, "Xao Chen."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: After receiving some feedback on the translations into different languages, I've decided that I'm going to stop them after the previous chapter. **

Chapter 6: The Hunted

Joel-Wyoming

_One Week Ago_

"Get to cover!" Houser shouted, ducking behind a tree. Brandon slid into a bush heavy with snow, and Maria hit the floor behind a small cabin in the middle of the clearing.

I went to join her at the cabin, ducking underneath a window and looking at her, "You see where the shot came from?"

She shook her head, "No, I didn't,"

At her response I peeked out of the wall for a second and looked around, ducking back into cover when I saw the glint of their scope. Half a second after I went behind the wall again, the wood next to my head splintered as a round ripped through it, causing my vision to blur. I checked the position of the sun, it was turning into late afternoon, so it was west. I turned back to Maria and in a louder voice that would carry over to Brandon and Houser, "He's northwest, on a rocky ledge between a fallen log and a fir tree."

I heard Houser respond, "Alright, I'll provide suppressive fire with Brandon, you and Maria flank him."

I ducked below the window and followed Maria to the far side, closest to the forest. I gave a thumbs up, and a long string of gunshots called back in response. A thunderous crack echoed through the forest every time the sniper fired in response to the rifles. If I didn't know what gunshots sounded like, I probably could've mistaken the sound for one of those awful computer-generated songs that started popping up a couple years before the outbreak. Every so often, the sounds of one of the assault rifles would stop and the other would fill the gap as they reloaded.

The sniper stopped shooting about fifteen minutes before we would've reached his position, I thought he'd run out ammo and bailed. I hoped that was the case, I really just want to be done with this shit and get back to Ellie; then I don't know. Maybe just head into Canada, get away from all of this.

That hope was dashed when I saw movement out of the corner of my eyes. I turned to see a person wearing a white poncho over a black and gray uniform and a mask that covered everything but her eyes and the bridge of her nose. She had a sword raised over her left shoulder and was starting to bring it down while letting out a scream. I got down and slipped to her side. I looked back at the tree I was standing in front of, and saw it fall over as the sword went through it. My neck started to tingle, the tree was as thick as it, and the sword went through it like butter. I snapped out of my thoughts and punched her in the stomach then hit her in the head. She fell to the ground, but had a death grip on the sword, which I recognized as a katana similar to one from some shitty samurai movie or something Tommy dragged me to when we were younger. Before I could pin her arm down to keep her from moving the sword, she lifted it up, sending a bolt of pain through my arm. She didn't have enough power to cut it off, but I still felt it dig slightly into the bone. I fell off her and she got on top of me, pinning me down with her knee. She flipped the sword so she'd stab me instead of cut me and started bring it down on my chest. Before it could hit me, she was pushed off me by a bullet digging into her shoulder.

I was in too much pain to have been any help to Maria at that point, and watched helplessly as the hammer of her pistol clicked and no rounds came out. She wasn't out of ammo, the damn thing just jammed. Seeing the terror in her eyes as she desperately pulled the trigger over and over again with no results sent adrenaline through me. I started to get up at the same time the sniper did, but she was much faster. She kicked me in the stomach and ran to Maria, still carrying the fucking sword. She knocked the gun away, elbowed in the nose, and grabbed her shoulder. The bright steel of the sword turned into a dark crimson as it ran through Maria. She pulled it out, sending blood in a ribbon across the snow. Maria fell to her knees, clutching the place where the sword made its entrance, a large pool of blood was already staining the fabric. The sniper raised the sword in a position that would end with Maria's head rolling.

I screamed while charging at her at the top of my lungs, "_NO!_"

Akira Takahashi- Wyoming

The old man was still some how able move after that kick and nearly getting his arm cut off. I figured that out as he tackled me, keeping me from doing that stupid bitch a favor and putting her out of her misery. I felt the blade pop her stomach like a balloon, cutting through her heart before leaving her body at the other side. I brought my elbow into his side, but he shrugged it off, continuing to punch me in the head. He pulled some sort of shiv out and flipped me over. He brought it down on my chest several times, but my body armor kept me from being stabbed fatally. Instead of killing the idiot, who didn't realize he wasn't killing me; I let out a drawn out, weak breath before slowly sucking one in and acting dead then forced my heart rate to slow down while closing my eyes. He got off of me after the blade broke away from the handle. He flipped me onto my back, unclipped my katana's sheath, and stomped on my back. I could feel the tip make a shallow cut in my skin and a thin trickle of blood coming out.

I could faintly hear him talking to the woman and her croak out a response then footsteps moving away at an odd pace.

Joel- Wyoming

Maria was dead. We both knew it, but my brain wasn't able to process it. She wanted me to just leave her there, but I refused, and dragged her off the ground and walked back towards the others as fast as possible with her bleeding out and her leaning on me. I could feel her warm blood soaking into my tan jacket. I had to get her back to the others and patch her up.

It took me about four minutes before we would've reached the clearing to realize she turned into a dead weight. Her face was paler than the snow. I set her down in the snow and put my ear to her chest, already knowing the answer.

Nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Wendigo

Casey- Wyoming

_Five days ago_

It didn't take much for me to get Ellie to move my arms so they'd be behind my back instead of above my head. She realized what she did after a nightmare I had about the asshole who drugged me before fucking me. She wanted to take them off after a day went by with no change in my condition, but I insisted on keeping them on. She did stop sleeping away from me, but started sleeping curled up in a ball with her head resting on my shoulder and a hand on my stomach.

That didn't really matter anymore, I was flexing my wrists now, getting the muscles used to movement again after two days. I was having trouble trying to keep my excitement bottled up. I'm immune, it's been two days, and I haven't fucking turned yet. _I'm fucking immune_. The thought was a cancer that wouldn't go away. Hell, I've even been giggling at Ellie's stupid jokes, which aren't that bad, admittedly. She was having a lot more`trouble containing her relief and excitement than I did. She did say her biggest fear was ending up alone, so I can't say it's too surprising. I wanted to do something more than laugh at a few jokes and curl up next to Ellie to celebrate my new lease on life, but I don't know what to do. An idea popped into my head, but it was getting late, and Ellie had fallen asleep, her shitty pun book in her lap.

Fuck it, I'll only be gone thirty minutes, an hour at most.

Ellie- Wyoming

I woke up to the sound of scuffling late at night. Casey wasn't in the building, and the footsteps were too heavy to be hers. I could kill them, but I don't know how many Hunters there are. Instead, I took my pack and hid it before hiding inside of a locker. No sooner than when I closed the door, did somebody open the door. I couldn't see his face, but the person he was carrying over his shoulder and the scent of death floating around him said I should just wait in here. He found the small, worn mattress that Casey and I used, and laid the person down on it. He tied the person, probably a twelve to fourteen year old boy, to the mattress. The boy had a washcloth wrapped around his mouth, and was naked except for a small blanket covering his lower half. The man lit a fire and sat down, showing he wore a brown fur coat and a matching hat with the ear flaps down. He pulled out a long curved piece of sharp metal fixed in the middle of a handle and started to sharpen it. He began singing in the softest, most bone-chillingly eerie voice I've ever heard.

_Very many, few can hear me_

_And if any two come near me._

_Nothing, everyone and nary,_

_Find this truly, quite contrary_

_I want to see the light leave your eyes,_

_Feeling your breath one last time_

_I want to see… _

_God rest your soul is mine!_

_Digest you whole in time!_

_Chew up and spit you out!_

_I hate my words right now!_

While he sang, the boy woke up, terrified at the sudden change in his position. His eyes widened and he started to struggle desperately when he saw the man at the foot of the mattress sharpening the sickle.

_Very many, few can hear me_

_And if any two come near me._

_Vision, wisdom, long division_

_Wipe away your name_

_I want to see…_

_God rest your soul is mine!_

_Digest you whole in time!_

_Chew up and spit you out!_

_I hate my words right now!_

He traced the sickle along the center of his body down to his waist, creating a thin red line in his stomach. The boy's struggles grew fiercer.

_I want to see the light leave your eyes,_

_Feeling your breath one last time._

_I want to see the light leave your eyes,_

_Feeling your breath, for the last time._

_God rest your soul is mine!_

_Digest you whole in time!_

_Chew up and spit you out!_

_I hate my words right now!_

He raised the sickle.

Casey- Wyoming

I arrived back at our camp around four in the morning. I knew something was wrong even before I opened the door. The remains of a fire were burning out in the open, the scent of blood was so overpowering I had to cover my nose with my arm to at least filter some of it out. There were bones scattered on the floor around the fire, and my brain refused to think about where they came from. I didn't see Ellie anywhere, which scared me more than the scene in front of me. "Ellie?!" I called out.

No response. I was about to call again, but then I heard sniffling from a locker. I checked and shined my flashlight into one of them. Ellie was inside it cowering into the back weeping almost silently. I opened the locker which caused Ellie to begin pleading, "P-p-please d-d-don't…"

"Hey, Ellie, it's me," I said, coaxing her to look up, with tear streaked and reddened eyes. She threw herself into me clutching my jacket and burying herself into me. Her body shook with every sob.

"H-h-he l-l-looked…" That was all she could get out before her words became indecipherable from her crying. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and let her cry. I didn't understand what terrified her so much about being looked at, then my brain allowed me to put two and two together. The bones, the fire, the blood, and Ellie hiding in the locker.

They were a cannibal.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry for my absence recently, but I have an excuse: I didn't know where to go with the story from the last chapter. Well, I've finally figured it out, however this chapter is mostly fluff; or at least that's how it felt for me. Also, there will be mention of rape and child abuse in this chapter.**

**PS: If you haven't seen the new X-Men movie, watch it. It's fucking awesome. I'm going to be writing a FanFic in that universe pretty soon.**

Chapter 8: Confession

_Three Days Ago_

Ellie- Wyoming-Montana Border

_He tied me to the floor, tracing my neck and stomach with that fucking sickle of his. His skin was so pale they could be bones, for all I knew they could've been from how emaciated he was. His hair was matted and patchy, with reddened spots of mange in between the patchwork hair. His mouth twitched upwards, but his lips were missing, replaced by a jagged scar grinning from ear to ear that showed off his sharpened, yellowing teeth. His eyes… his eyes were the most horrifying thing I've ever seen. They were dry and reddened, his pupils were surrounded by a circle of bronze. There was no more life behind them, just… hunger. His eyelids were burned away, leaving them surrounded by a thin black line._

_I tried to scream for help, but his bony hands that reeked of decay and dirt covered my mouth and nose. He began speaking, the chillingly soft voice was brimmed with insanity, "Shhh… none of that, sweet. We don't want somebody disturbing our special moment, do we?" He put the sickle down, and rubs my exposed stomach gently with the free hand, staying uncomfortably close to my lower belly. He stuck his tongue out and bent down to my forehead. He licked the beads of terrified sweat off me. He nuzzled my cheek with his sharp cheekbone, "Do you know how long it's been since I've held such a tasty treat?" I'm not sure what scared me more, a cannibal saying this; or a pedophile saying this. I swear, I can hear David's voice providing a darker undertone to his. He bit down gently on my left arm's skin, then tugging and a sharp sting followed by a slight trickle of blood. He lifted his hand slowly off my mouth, I was too terrified to do anything but whimper. He held the hand of my bleeding arm and pushed his fingers in between mine. His other hand slid down into my pants, making me try to force my legs closed. _

_He took his hand away, snarling, "What's this? The sweet doesn't want show me their meat?" He grabbed the sickle and pushed it down into my skin, opening up a deep hole in the middle of my chest, I screamed as the pain shot through me, "Then, I'll MAKE it show me their meat." He pulled it down._

"ELLIE!" Casey's sharp voice kicked me out of the vivisection I was going through in my sleep, the rhythm of a hand thumping gently on my cheek served as a guide. She was sitting on top of me shaking me, concern was rooted inside her light blue eyes. There was also fear in them. She stopped hitting me and held a finger to her lips.

_Ick-ick-ickickickick-ick-ick-ick_

A Clicker. Probably ten feet away from the door of our run-down hotel room. The thing was moving closer, curious about the sounds coming from this room. Casey silently rolled off of me and pulled her over-the-top giant knife out in one fluid motion. She moved to the edge of the room that gave way to a small path leading into the hotel's walkway. She looked at me and nodded curtly, I pulled my switchblade out and held my hands up, allowing me to get before it would fall on me. When Casey gave signal that the Clicker entered the room (an inaudible tapping on the wall., I let out a high-pitched squeak. The Clicker screeched in my direction and charged towards me. Casey held the bowie knife in the center of the hall, making it run straight into the blade. It gurgled as it fell to the ground clawing its neck.

The momentum from the running Clicker brought Casey to the ground with it. She grabbed its head and pulled it up, freeing her arm and the knife. She looked at me, the fear was gone, but the concern stayed. "Was it him again?"

I nodded, unable to speak without coming out shaky because of fear from the encounter we just had and the dream. She sighed and sat down next to me on the bed. I moved so I'd be sitting up next to her. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't place the words. "Hey, you don't have to say anything. He isn't the first sick fucker I've come across."

She sighed, "I know, but I can't help feeling responsible. If I was there, I…I could've stopped him from killing that boy. I could've stopped him from…" Her pause told me that she still wants to know what was so disturbing about him just staring at me. "... Looking at you."

I shook my head, "You aren't responsible. What's done is done."

She ignored me and continued to speak; but it seemed like she was talking to herself, "What would you say, Brandon? What would you do about my fucking idiocy to not even wait until morning before going out and searching for supplies? Would you fucking yell at me again?"

"Wait… did you just call your dad by his real name?" I was confused by what she said. Nobody else I knew called their parents by their first name.

She laughed bitterly, "My dad? He isn't my dad. A dad is somebody like Joel. A dad is somebody who teaches you how to read a goddamned at two years old, not how to fucking _kill_. A dad isn't somebody who fucking takes a picture with his child, then beats them to a bloody pulp for saying 'thanks Dad' ten minutes later." Tears began falling down her cheeks, and she gets her odd stutter, "I-I lied about h-how I got this scar o-on my f-face. It- it was after a hill we were c-climbing collapsed u-under me. B-brandon k-k-k-kept me f-from drowning, b-but my g-gear was u-unsalvageable. H-he f-flipped out, c-calling me a 'stupid klutz' a-and a 'fucking whore'" The last words, justifiably, sent a shudder down her back, "I-I a-accidentally c-called him dad in my apology. T-that just m-made h-him m-more angry. He p-pushed me t-to the g-ground and kicked the fuck o-out of me. H-he h-has steel-toed boots. H-he f-finished t-the beating b-by k-kicking me in the h-head."

I was silent. Brandon, while he was without a doubt incredibly dangerous, I just… I couldn't think that he was the parent who beats their kid. He seemed too devoted to protecting her that he'd never harm Casey. He seemed more like the parent that would butcher another person's kid or some shit, then force feed them the pieces for just saying 'hi' to her.

I pulled her closer to me, and drifted into an uneasy sleep with her in my arms.

Vasily Aristov- Wyoming-Montana Border

_Present Day_

My team went into the abandoned hotel that was more than half rotten. The stench of rotting wood alone made us put on the gas masks. There was another scent, one that was an even darker reminder of the world we live in. I ordered half my men to clear the upstairs floor, and I went with the three remaining soldiers to check the basement. I blinked in surprise, the first basement not completely infested with the Spore. Instead it was covered in flooring from the upper floors. Light from those floors flooded the area. In the middle of the floor there was a small, broken figure. On closer inspection, I discovered it was either a seventeen or eighteen year old redhead with a nasty looking cut on the back of her head, it appeared a ponytail was meant to be there. I put two fingers against her neck and felt a faint heartbeat. I looked up, counting nine floors, to see one of my men was looking back down into the pit.

"She's alive!" I called up in Russian.

My only response was him turning around and being climbed on by a person wearing a Chinese uniform, who put a gun in the man's face. I stood up, shouldering my rifle as I spun right into a Chiappa Rhino that was now pointing right between my eyes. I dropped the rifle, knowing his demand would be that. Ten other EACR soldiers were point at the four of us, but I was only focused on the one about to kill me.

I smirked, causing confusion to cross the man's dark brown eyes. In as perfect Chinese as I could manage for being out of practice fifteen years, I calmly asked him, "Is that any way to say hello to an old friend, Xao?"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I haven't found time to sit down and write. I'm also wanting to post some of my artwork, mainly of this story online somewhere, but I do not know what site I could upload a photo of my art or something and share it for free; so it'd be greatly appreciated if you guys could tell me about one, preferably through a PM, since I don't want the reviews spammed with suggestions. In other news, I'm planning on having some important **_**things **_**to the story happen to a couple of the OCs in the next few chapters, but I'm wanting you to decide who it happens to; so if you want to participate in the decision-making, just leave a review or send me a PM, same if you have any constructive criticism, comments, or questions.**

Chapter 9: Resurgence

_Present Day_

Xao Chen- Wyoming-Montana Border

"Is that anyway to say hello to an old friend, Xao?"

I couldn't believe it. I _wouldn't_ believe it. I saw him die, the walking pizza-topping tore his fucking head to pieces. Nobody could live that.

But here he was. Take away the scars and fifteen years of aging, put a badly cut salt-and-pepper hair on him, take away the glazed look over the gored eye, and grow the beard out about two centimeters and a half; and it's him. Brigadier General Vasily Aristov, possibly the best, and most brutal, military mind in the modern world. Before the fall of the United Nations, he was court martialed by them for the crimes he committed in the bloodiest...genocide, I guess, though most of the people he had killed were Infected. His death must've been feigned in order to keep him from either a life sentence or an execution and allow him to continue military service, most likely under a false name.

"Va… Vasily?" I stuttered, my brain unable to fully process it was him. I slowly lowered my gun, knowing I probably wouldn't have the reaction time to put down the two meter giant before he put me down.

He started laughing, causing the other three Russians or Germans to lower their weapons and look at him in confusion. He stopped laughing and said, "Holy shit, you took long enough to figure it out, you idiot." One of the soldiers went up to him and started speaking in German. Whatever it was seemed to irritate Vasily, as he started shouting at him. The soldier backed off, and all of them reluctantly put their weapons down.

Vasily gave a satisfied nod and looked back at us. "There will be no killing today. We're coming willingly."

The Germans put their hands on their heads and were corralled into a single-file line in the center of my thirty infantry. The one exception was Vasily, who is only outside of the line because I wanted to talk with him. That, and because he was the 'volunteer' for whoever would carry the kid that appeared to have survived a nine floor drop into the basement.

I was trying to think of a way to break through the icy silence of my old friend when he spoke. "How have things been for the EACR government since the attacks?"

I glanced at him, becoming infuriated at him for bringing that up in an already awkward/hostile reunion. "It's been two years and we're still dealing with riots. The acids that were found in the attack have contaminated over seventy-five percent of our farms, rendering them useless. Half of Beijing is under quarantine because your artificial spores are fertile. Oh, and desertion rates have increased by _seventy-five percent_. How do you think we're doing?" I glared at him and demanded, "What sort action would need a super-weapon needed as the punishment?"

He scoffed, "Maybe multiple violations of the Claimed Territory and Resources Act. China came up with it, the rest of us just signed it." He looked down at me, the glance was made far too intimidating for how casual it was. Surprisingly, I was more scared by his almost-black brown eye than his fucked up appearance. "We knew they were fertile. We fired the missiles anyways, knowing the aftermath would serve as further reminder to not fuck with Russia." He paused and his face lost his emotionless expression in favor of an expression of intense pain. He fell to his knees, causing the kid to roll off his shoulders. He clawed at his chest and wrapped his arm around his mouth. His back started to heave and he made a series of short, scratchy barks. When his odd coughing fit ended, the pained expression went away and he took his arm away from his mouth. The black-and-white jacket he wore was sporting a bright crimson stain on his sleeve.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" I reached down to help him to his feet, but he pushed me away and picked the girl up, unceremoniously throwing her over his shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This happens occasionally" He croaked while standing up, "That Stage-Four that nearly killed me in Tunisia, it crushed my ribcage. Fucked up my lungs," He paused and looked over at my men, who were busy with the other seven prisoners, then said in a lowered voice, "Listen, Xao, I need your help."

I looked at him warily, "What do you mean?"

We looked back at his men, and noticed that one of the ones wearing a KSK uniform watching us. Vasily shook his head, "I can't say everything in front of them. Too risky," He continued, glancing at the girl's arms, "But, do you know who this is?"

I shook my head. "Can't say I do. Why?"

He took her off his shoulders and started carrying her like a toddler. He moved so her right arm was hanging off. "Roll up her sleeve." He commanded. I complied, right until I got about halfway up her forearm. I noticed multiple small discolored bumps around scar tissue. I held my breath, and rolled it up further. Uncovering the full scar.

A bite wound. Over a year old, judging from the decay of the fungal growths. She's an Immune.

Vasily's voice echoed in my head while I stared at the bite.

"Now, do you understand her importance?"

Tommy- Wyoming

"Come on, Dad! Snap out of it! _Please_!" I could hear my son begging me to come back to him, but I don't know how to. Ever since that Japanese woman came back carrying Maria's lifeless body, I haven't been able to get away from the table in our kitchen, where I first heard the news. I could feel him shaking me, desperate to get his remaining parent back. But I'm numb to any feeling. He stopped after about a minute and took his hands off of me. I heard quiet weeping coming from my right. I feel horrible for shutting down like this, but I just can't function, even for my son.

The weeping turned into sniffles as somebody gently knocked on the door. Probably Xao trying to snap me out of it so he can learn more about the area. Again.

I tried to watch Aaron move towards the door, but the stiff muscles in my entire body prevented any sort of movement. Instead, I just listened to the quiet voices after the door opened.

"What do you want, Earl?"

"Xao needs to talk with your dad, is he back to normal?"

"No, but he might get better if they'd just leave!" Aaron tried to shout, but his voice was too broken from crying for him to be able to. "Since when is that bastard having you do his errands, anyways?"

Earl sighed, "Look, I have no idea what he wants from your dad, but he said it's important."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyways, since he's still a fucking vegetable!"

He sighed again, "Okay, I'll go tell him that Tommy isn't useful."

Earl wasn't gone more than ten minutes, but I could tell he had company without seeing them, just based on the number of footsteps. One set had the striding gait of the woman who brought the news that shut me down like this, a second one had Xao's near-gliding-like gait, and then there was third person with a gait almost like he was stuck marching, his footsteps had a lopsided and heavy quality that seemed like he was carrying something. It was confirmed after the thing he was carrying had been spilled onto the table.

Xao came over to me and wrapped an arm around me. He spoke softly, "Listen, Thomas, we need your help identifying a person if you can. They aren't dead, and they're important. You can't bring your wife back, but you can't just sit here and rot. Would she want you to be like this?"

The reason he needed me wasn't that noble in my opinion, but he was right. Maria wouldn't want me to be like this. Slowly, mostly because I was getting used to motion again, I lifted my head enough so I could see who was alive on the table. My heart leapt with happiness as my eyes fell on her face. The ponytail was missing, but it was clearly her. She's still alive.

"Ellie…"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Into Montana

_Present Day_

Casey- Montana

He's hunting me, I've figured that much out. I've seen the bastard in the trees several times, waiting for me to lower my guard. I haven't seen him for a couple days, so maybe he backed off. Either way, now that I'm slowly drifting off to sleep, he's got his chance…

_He's the one that had terrified Ellie, the look on her face when we saw him confirmed it. He chased us through the hotel, screaming 'feed me!' and 'just fucking die already!' at us the entire time. I'm not sure how I could hear him over the screams of the Infected that were chasing us. When we reached an unfortunate dead end, we turned around and began shooting desperately at the mass of flesh that was chasing us. We only got four of the Infected before one them got a hold on Ellie, she began to fall backwards from the force it crashed into her with. The weight of the Runner had put the decayed wood under us over the edge, it broke open, sending the three of us falling. I fell probably three floors before the ground could barely take the impact. I had felt the wood begin to break and pain shoot through my right leg before I blacked out. I had waken up with a terrible headache as well as throbbing pain in my leg. I tried to move it from wherever it was, but I couldn't get it to respond. Against better judgement, I moved my arms behind me so I could get up and figure out what was wrong with it. I really wish I hadn't, because it broke through the floor and there was more wood than flesh in my leg. Gritting my teeth, I pulled it out of the hole. I rolled over to try and get up when I noticed Ellie's automatic rifle lying next to me. I grabbed it before standing up, crying in agony as my leg bone slipped off the fracture caused by the giant splinter inside it…_

The door to the two-floor cabin I set up camp in slowly creaked open, causing me to wake up. I pulled my back-up knife out of the holster on my boot for it. I held my breath as the stairs began to groan at the heavy footsteps of somebody. I allowed myself to relax slightly, whoever is hunting for me is too light it to be him. I didn't dare get out from under the bed, though. The door to the room began to creak open, showing that the person was wearing a knee-length dark-brown trench coat, a pair of camouflage winter pants, and black hiking boots. Above that, I couldn't see anything. The person took off their boots and trench coat off. They sat down on the bed and took their pants off, dropping them to the floor. The person moved so they'd be lying in bed, letting out a sigh in the process.

They began snoring softly as they drifted into sleep, giving me a chance to decide my course of action. I can try to run out of here, but my leg is fucked to oblivion for at least a couple weeks. I could probably sneak out of here, I'm quiet enough. But, everybody's a light sleeper. Finally, after thinking a little longer, I got to an option I could use: wait for them to leave again. It's dangerous, but it's all I've got. With that in mind, I allowed myself to go to sleep, still clutching the knife…

I woke up shaking and covered in sweat despite the cold. I hate sleeping. There's nothing to shield me from that place in my dreams. I wiped the tears out of my eyes, and blinked away the blurriness. I noticed a white piece of scrap paper sticking from underneath the sheets I used as a makeshift mattress. I pulled it out and started to read the scratchy letters of whoever wrote it. _There's breakfast in the kitchen when you're hungry._

My blood ran cold. Was I really stupid enough to make noise in that situation? Did they know I was there the entire time? I looked to the window, debating whether to climb out and run or stay. I sighed, knowing what the obvious choice was, and stuffed my knife back in the holster. I sat on the bed and checked the splint I made out of a tire iron and a PVC pipe. Satisfied it was fine, I limped out of the room and down the staircase. I only got my foot on the first step when something smashed into me, wrapping its bony arm around me to keep me from falling.

A familiar voice hissed in my ear, "Got you now, kitty." I tried to cry out for help, only to have a bony hand wrapped around my mouth. "Uh-uh-uh, we're not gonna have any of that." The arm wrapped around my stomach vanished and I felt a sharp poke on my side through the flannel I'm wearing. Desperately, I began trying to elbow him, but I couldn't get a solid hit in.

Pain shot through my side as the sickle went through the flannel and undershirt into my flesh. The agony worsened as he dragged it through my side towards him. A scream escaped through his hand, becoming louder as it fell from my mouth when I got a solid hit in. He grunted in pain while he fell. I moved out of the way while he fell, clutching my side. He grabbed my foot and pulled it towards him, making me fall. I yelped in pain when my back smashed into the floor, sending more agony to go through my side. He climbed on top of me, trying to cut my neck with the sickle. I grabbed his arm before the sickle went too deep in my neck, but it was still deep enough to draw blood. I brought my knee up into the soft organs between his legs, but not as hard as I wanted to. Still, I got the desired results since he squealed like a bitch and rolled off me, writhing around while whimpering and clutching them with both hands. I picked the sickle up and tried to hit him in the head with it, but I can't figure out which head is the real one. Fuck, I'm so tired… so fucking tired. I shook my head and struck as hard as I could, getting a satisfying, but sickening thud.

I fell off of him as he let out a final gurgled sigh. I let out a sob of agony and clutched the gaping cut on my side. My vision began fading, and everything became cold. I'm so fucking cold… so tired…

I just... I just need to sleep…

Kaleb Fischer- Montana

I warily walked back towards the direction of that scream. I had my rifle out and shouldered already. I stopped in my tracks when I came to my home. The front door was wide open, and the hauntingly familiar boot tracks led into my house. The Wendigo is in my fucking home somewhere. I swallowed nervously, remembering the poor girl that was under my bed, trapped in some unseen nightmare, crying and begging for whatever was happening to her to end. She's fucking vulnerable in there with him. With that in mind, I rushed in and up the stairs, nearly slipping in the pool of hot blood that was building up. Confused, I began to look around at the scene. The first thing I noticed was the corpse of the Wendigo, I allowed myself a moment of joy that the sick child-eating fuck is finally dead. The moment passed when I saw the kid lying on her side in a pool of blood, a thin trickle leaking through her now red hands. She was breathing, but the breaths were shallow.

Quickly, I ran downstairs and grabbed the first-aid kit then pulled out the rubbing alcohol and sutures. I ran back up, carefully pulled her arms off the cut, which looked like it was done bleeding, and sterilized it with the alcohol. She let out a soft moan of pain when I first put it on. After that, I began to sow the cut shut, leaving rather sloppy stitching.

Still, satisfied she'd live, I pulled her out of the blood and brought her into my bed after taking off her blood stained clothes and deciding to leave cleaning her up for another day. In the daylight, I could finally get a good look at her. While a bit… lacking in certain departments, she was still pretty attractive, almost pitch black coffee brown hair, and unbelievably pale skin, but that might just be from blood loss.

I smiled softly and gently touched her forehead. "You're gonna make it, kiddo, don't worry…"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Convoy

_Present Day_

Brandon- Wyoming-Nebraska border

The pick-up truck we found a couple days ago would be breaking down soon. I could tell from the rattling in the engine. Something important broke, and Houser and Joel argued for half the day yesterday trying to decide what we'd do. They didn't bother asking me what to do, which is understandable, I still want to kill Houser for losing track of where he left my daughter; and Joel weren't talking since he tries to dance around the question whenever I ask about Casey and Ellie's relationship. Still, their decision ended with them agreeing to drive until it breaks.

Which, unfortunately, was right now. The engine made a popping sound and began to sputter and die. I sighed and vaulted out of the bed of the truck. Houser got out of the driver's seat, and Joel popped out on the other side of the truck. After talking for a couple minutes over what direction to continue in, Houser began walking east. He stopped and looked back at me, "Look, I couldn't give any less of a fuck if you go with me, Joel, or an entirely different direction, but I'm going east. I doubt you'll find your daughter here, but it's the safer place."

He waited about a minute before realizing I wasn't going with him. He shrugged and began walking away. I leaned against the door of the truck, arms folded and looked at Joel. "What direction are you going in?" I asked unneededly, I could've already guessed he was going north from the way he's been speaking these few days.

Sure enough, he pointed north. In his typical gruff and somewhat-monotone voice that hid a deep-seated fear he would never confess, he said, "Well, Ellie and I agreed on heading north through Montana and into Alberta in case shit hit the fan in Jackson. Hopefully, she remembered and headed that way. Chances are your daughter will be with her."

Something about that last part sounded suspicious, "Speaking of Ellie and Casey, you still haven't told me what their actual relationship if they're not friends."

He hit his forehead hard and dragged it down his face, "Okay, seriously?" He spun to face me, throwing his arms up slightly You've had all this time to think about it, and you _still_ haven't figured it out yet?!"

I blinked in surprise before shouting, "Well, sorry that I can't tell what they are if they aren't friends, and I sure as hell know they don't hate each other?!"

He slowly lowered his arms with a confused look on his face, "Wait, what?"

I sighed and said, "I have no idea what you're hinting at."

His confused expression slowly became amused and let out a rare chuckle when he spoke, "Where you raised?"

"Southwest Mississippi, why?"

His chuckle started to turn into complete laughter, "Alright, that would definitely explain it."

_Alright, Joel, you want to be like that_, I thought, starting to curl my fingers into a fist, _fine._ I swung the fist hard into his cheek, sending him to the ground. I flipped him over then pinned one of his arms down under one of my legs, and drove my other knee into his back. I grabbed his head in one hand, lifted it up into the air before smashing it down. "How's fucking snow feel, you filthy fuckin' Texan? How do you think it felt to be sleeping out in this shit just so your mom doesn't fucking kill you?" I lifted his head up again and threw it down again, this time hitting an exposed rock. I heard several voices in the distance coming closer, and turned to look at their direction. The motion caused my grip on Joel to relax, and he took advantage of it, throwing himself into the air and sending me to the ground. He kicked me in the side of the face and in the gut before a voice in some unknown language shouted at him. Joel looked up an instantly backed up and put his hands in the air. A look of recognition and fear crossed his face and he nodded then went to his knees while turning around.

Joel- Wyoming

He knows who I am. He looked me in the fucking eye back then, and now fucking remembers me. I heard Brandon start moving and somebody with a heavy French accent bark, "On your knees and turn around."

He did so and shot me a look that said '_Who the fuck are they?_'

'_I only know one. The Firefly,_' I mimicked.

His expression became one of mixed emotions while he decided what I meant, and was unreadable.

'_Ellie.' _I mouthed, causing the person scanning me for something other than Cordyceps to step on my foot.

"Shut up." He growled, the accent sounded more Scandinavian/Russian. I nodded, letting out an inaudible sigh. He took the scanner away and turned to the Firefly, "Joel Miller?"

The Firefly said something into his radio. He turned back and the look of suspicion transformed into one of pure rage. He lifted up his rifle, shouting, "It's fucking him!"

The presence of the scanner was replaced by the barrel of a handgun. and he started pushing me to the ground with the hand on my shoulder and a hard jab from his knee. The person who was scanning Brandon had stepped away when he shouted, "Unknown signature."

The motion had given Brandon enough time start standing up and knock his rifle out of the way while he turned around and shouldered it. Brandon pulled out his boot knife and punched him in the jugular with the blade, dropping both hands to pick up the man's rifle, turning and shooting the person on me, then shooting the Frenchman, but not killing him. He turned to the Firefly, only to get shot in the shoulder twice by him. Brandon dropped the rifle, clutching his injured shoulder while he fell. I reached for the pistol now at the side of my head, but getting stopped by a shot to my arm and the handgun I had. The Frenchman had one arm wrapped around his stomach and his other hand on a pistol.

The Firefly ran over to me and stepped on my injured arm. I growled in pain, causing him to laugh. "Yeah, don't feel too good, right?" He lifted up his foot and brought back down, harder and twisting it in the process. "Just imagine what Marlene felt, you sick fuck." He moved his foot so it'd be on my head and digging it into the snow. He got off of me and allowed another person who was there as well to get on me and handcuff me. The Firefly turned to Brandon, who was now passed out, and wrapped a bandage around his wound, then handcuffed him.

The soldier on me pulled a bag over my head and smashed my head into the ground with the butt of his rifle.

Tommy- Wyoming

Xao had a relieved look on his face when I said a the name, but the giant leaning on my counter tensed significantly. His glare was intimidating enough without the overall appearance of the man who wore it. He was easily a head taller than me, and was judging me for something. I noticed a metallic shine in his hand, my Firefly Pendant. I gulped, realizing the Russian was probably sizing me up, and knowing that I'd probably be taken down in a second. Despite my training in the Fireflies, I have been out of practice for years; and he's a trained soldier who is taller than me and built like a grizzly bear.

Xao's voice pulled me from my thoughts, "Is she a resident or just somebody you know?"

"Resident. She's my brother's foster." Something he said had come back to me, and now put me on high alert, "You said she's important, what did you mean by that?"

Xao lost the relieved look, his eyes turned to flint when he said, "None of your concern."

I relaxed now, knowing for certain that they knew of her immunity, "Okay, so you do know that she's immune."

I think Xao blinked in surprise at what I said, but I was more preoccupied with the Russian freight train that smashed into me. Pain went through my head and shoulder blades as I went to the ground. I grabbed his arm as a sharp metal tip poked my skin. I don't doubt that he could have stabbed me anyways if he wanted to. He growled at me, "Where the fuck is Marlene?" Xao wrapped an arm around his shoulder and grabbed the Russian's head. He began desperately trying to push him off of me.

"She's dead." I gasped, his weight combined with that of his armor and the knife pressing on my airways making it hard to breath.

He shoved his knee into my stomach, "Bullshit! Come on, you little fucking pig, squeal!"

The woman had run over to try and help Xao get him off of me. Realizing it was futile, she got off and moved to his head she tilted her body away and brought the leg closest to him up into her stomach. She shot it out hard, hitting him in the cheek and her heel smashing into his nose. He fell off of me and on his back I rolled away as she slowly tread to his feet, the barrel of a Howa pointed at the bridge of his nose. "Don't fucking move." She ordered, the facemask she wore muffled her accented words.

Xao got to his feet, and so did the Russian. The Japanese woman had a laser-like trace on the man's head as he got up. "What the fuck, Vasily?"

Vasily pointed at Xao then at me, shouting something in some bizarre language. Xao shouted back in the same language. After that, they started trying to shout over each other as the man who stood below the giant's shoulder gained confidence and began to fight back in a way that… wouldn't have such a high likelihood of death that my method did.

They continued shouting at each other for what seemed like twenty minutes, and I noticed Aaron hiding on the other side of the kitchen, his head wrapped in his arms and back heaving. I crawled over to him and wrapped my arms tightly around him. He did the same and buried his head into my chest. "I-I-I thought that I l-lost y-you, too." He whimpered.

I rocked him back and forth, listening to the verbal fight going on between those two. It ended with the Russian voice roaring something, a something hitting against the wall hard enough for it to shake, and then somebody storming out the front door, and slamming it.

Xao said something quietly to the Japanese woman, and she said something in response. After that, I heard her walk to the front door and leave in a far more calm fashion than the Russian.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Alexander  
Present Day  
Kaleb- Montana

I stepped out of the jeep, a courtesy of the town whose gates stood in front of me. One of the guards identified me and waved to me, which I returned, half-smiling. I walked to the back of the jeep and pulled out the animal that I've been hunting these past ten years.  
Nobody seems to know where the Wendigo came from, or know of him at all, actually. All that's known about him is stories from the people of the small towns who don't get much visitors; or by the lucky few who get out of his campground alive. All that's agreed on about him is he's a psychopath, and a cannibal. Which… is exactly why he was called the 'Wendigo.' Some Native American demon, with its legend most common in the Northwest United States and in Canada.  
In reality, he was just a man who fucking ate kids. At least, that's what the people of Rust claim is why he's got a contract on his head. I don't doubt it, I've certainly seen child bones at his personal barbecues. They just aren't being completely honest.  
I pulled his body unceremoniously behind me, allowing his torso and head to drag through the snow. I looked at one of the guards on the collage of debris and timber they called a wall. "I've got somethin' for Alexander!" I shouted at him.  
"What is it?" He called back.  
"My contract."  
"Holy shit," He shouted, turning around and yelling an answer to somebody, "Let him in!"  
I smirked, walking back to my car listening into the groans of rusted iron bars that made their gate swing open. I was a contract killer ever since I was sixteen, in the Baton Rouge Quarantine Zone, killing to try to get away from the military hunting for an illegal immigrant. I'd accept food, weapons, a place to sleep, or a shortcut to get closer to my destination, which, stupidly, had turned out to be trying to escape shortly after I almost got caught by the military twice. Habit just stuck when I got out. In fact, I'm one of the only Nomads that are known cross-country by the alias I've gotten and my real name.  
Comparing Alexander to a monster like the Wendigo would be an insult to him. Man's a fucking Puritan who got control of a military base and the nearby town before the Infected moved in. With both those advantages, he built an 'empire' from the Rocky Mountains, to Alaska, and to the Great Lakes. He's a Section Eight with access to military grade hardware and a powerful sense of self-righteousness.  
I threw the Wendigo back into the jeep and got back in the driver's seat. I put in drive and slowly move through the gate. Beyond here, if Alex wants me dead, he gets it.  
I intentionally took my eyes off the road and down at the steering wheel once we were in the town. I'm not going to watch any of the atrocities that he's ordered. Still, I could feel these people glaring at me, disgusted with the presence of an outsider. They hate me; think that I'm some sort of parasite and that I thrive off of the pain and misery of the world. They've got a… pretty good reason to hate me. I slowly lowered one hand off the steering wheel and grabbed the handgun in the ashtray. Fortunately, I didn't have to use it by the time I hit the military base. They opened the gate and directed me to the building he was in. I parked and got out, putting my pistol in its holster and grabbing the corpse, then walked into the 'Communications' building.  
One of the guards directed me upstairs with a grin when he saw what I carried, "You got the motherfucker?"  
I nodded in response, "What floor?"  
"Second floor, meeting room on the right."  
I rolled my shoulders to keep the body from falling off and nodded my thanks. These people, surprisingly, have managed to keep this place organized, clean, and well-maintained for the past nineteen years Alexander has ruled over this area. Bracing myself for whatever he'd have in store for me up there, I headed to the stairs.  
I wasn't even half-way up the stairs by the time I heard a scream of agony that was cut off quickly. I could kill him. I could just do his flock a favor and kill him, but he's the man who needs to be alive at this moment in time the most. He goes, then the region destabilizes in the aftermath. Or worse, the Infected get unbridled access to Canada.  
A door opened and rapid footsteps poured into the hall ahead of me. A terrified teen bolted down the stairs and darted through the doors, only to get tackled by the guards outside. I looked away when she started begging them kill her. No need to bear witness to their atrocities, I've already made my decision.  
An old man was bleeding to death in the middle of the room Alexander was in. He had a long gash from the bottom tip of his ribcage to the bottom of his stomach, and a stab wound in his right lung. From the hair color and almost exact facial features the girl did, I'm guessing he was her father. Unfortunately for him, he didn't realize Alexander doesn't like rejection. I quietly set the Wendigo's corpse on the table and stood facing Alex, my hands clasped together, in a position where I knock my trench coat out of the way and grab my pistol quick enough to take somebody down if need be.  
When he finally turned around and noticed me, he grinned menacingly and walked over to me. I bowed my head nervously. "Ah, Kaleb! It's been…" he paused dramatically and asked, "How long since we last met."  
"Seven month, sir."  
"Really? Seven months. Why so long?"  
"You threatened to burn me at the stake if I came back again without my contract, remember?"  
He pulled out a fillet knife and his grin widened, "Ah, yes. That's why. So, am I going to gut you or-"  
I interrupted, "I have him." Nodding towards the table. A disappointed look spread across his face as he looked to the body.  
"Well, damn. I was kinda hopin' to kill you. Thank the Lord you got him, though." He walked back to his table and pulled out a beige military duffle bag. "Deal's a deal, my friend. Here you go." He tossed the bag to my feet.  
I knelt down and unzipped it, examining my new hardware. A Kevlar vest with a dull green protector with more places store gear, five magazines, and a bullpup assault rifle with a scope that has a 3.4x zoom and a suppressor. I checked the ammo in the clip and put back it in the rifle. "You want the bag?"  
"Keep it."  
I picked the bag up and started to get up, pausing at the presence of metal brushing the back of my head. I grabbed the man's arm while turning around and knocked it away. I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the ground. I heard Alex laughing and saw him walk back to his seat, kicking his feet up onto the table and leaning back in his chair. "Well, I see you haven't gotten rusty these past few months."  
"No reason to, especially since I'm still doin' business with you."  
He smirked, "Wise words to live by, comrade. But, why are we still doing business?"  
I bit my lip and looked down at the ground. I kicked nothing in particular, and exhaled quietly. I looked up, deciding I really wanted to do this, "Well, I've got some more… merchandise for you."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:This chapter and maybe the next couple will be quite a bit longer since they're mainly character development. I am also doing this to get the story going at a slower pace since they'll take longer to write.**

Chapter 13: Totes Haus

_Present Day_

Joel- Iowa

The roar of machinery invaded my head and forced me awake. I groaned as I blinked my way back into the world of the living. My arms were tied painfully above me. Any movement sent a jolt of pain from them. My legs were cuffed to either side of the seat I was in. I was moving, and my surroundings were metallic and incredibly hot.

"Don't bother trying anything." A voice to my left hissed. I glanced moving only my eyes. The person was Brandon, and his arms were in a similar position to mine, only the bindings were slightly looser. "I've been trying since I woke up yesterday. Not worth the energy."

"Yesterday? How long were we out?"

He 'shrugged', "No idea, but for awhile I'm guessing. They were talking about how you might have died or went comatose from that hit. They were really hoping that was the case; even the Firefly, who was near salivating over the prospect of keeping you alive for torture, ended up hoping you died from that blow to your head as well."

I sighed heavily, looking across the vehicle we were in, noticing the place was lit with a single 'emergency power' bulb, I think. Other than that, there were probably five people all tied similarly to us. I glanced farther out into left of the room noticing a person leaning against the wall, arms folded with an assault rifle at his side. He stared blankly at the back of the vehicle; but I'm certain he's looking at all of us through his goggles.

"Brandon, where the hell are we?"

"No fucking idea," He started to speak but was cut off as we slammed to a stop, waking everybody else up. "But, I don't think we'll have to wait too long." The back door opened and two soldiers came in shouting instructions in some foreign language. The guard at the driver's side nodded and grabbed his rifle. The two newcomers started untying their prisoners from the bars and their legs, but kept their hands tied. When one finally got to me, he shined a small flashlight in my eyes, causing me to blink. He cut my hands and pushed me out.

"Get up," He ordered. As I got up he grabbed my arm and started helping me, "Listen, just co-operate with him, and you _may_ get released… or just a quicker death." He whispered in my ear and lightly tossed me towards the door.

"March!" I heard one of the soldiers shout.

The other prisoners looked around until they spotted spotted a narrow trail through the forest. Quietly, I fell in line beside Brandon, keeping my head bowed below the cold stares of the soldiers, some with the flags of their native countries, and others with Firefly bands. He glanced me and whispered, "How are you and Ellie connected to the Fireflies?"

"They were going to use her immunity to make a cure or vaccine. Doing so meant they'd have to cut her brain out. I… I couldn't let them do that."

"Were you sent to stop her from reaching that destination?" He asked, suspicion giving his voice a hard edge.

I hesitated with my answer, "No… Originally, I was hired by the Fireflies to escort her."

"So, you fucking worked with them?!" He almost shouted, and I noticed one of the soldiers walking a few people behind us start glaring at him while flipping the safety of his carbine off.

"Keep your voice down, the soldiers are watching you."

He looked behind himself for a second, and gulped when he saw the soldier glaring at him. "Right. Sorry."

I nodded slightly and said, "It was supposed to be simple delivery job with a large payout. At first, I didn't really care what they did to her; then…" I let out a heavy exhale and fought to keep the tears back, "She helped me let go of somebody."

Brandon had a look of understanding on his face, "I lost everything by the time Cass took her first breath, even her mother."

I allowed the conversation to trail off after that, until I remembered something Brandon said before these people arrested us. "Hey, wait. You said you're from southern Mississippi, right?"

He glanced at me, "Yeah…"

"So, how the hell was your mom able to throw you out into the snow? You'd be too close to the Gulf of Mexico for it to snow."

He smiled sheepishly, "I only lived in Mississippi for about five years. After that, we moved all the way to Miamisburg in Ohio."

I nodded slowly, accepting the answer. I looked down at my feet and said, "You still want to know what relationship your daughter has with Ellie?"

Brandon shook his head, "You were right. All I needed to do was think."

"So, you know that they're-"

He nodded, "Yes. I know they're together."

"You're okay with it?"

He smirked, "When I first figured it out, no. But, I just kept thinking about it, and how petty it seemed for me to hold it against her." He looked at me, "What about you, Joel? You're the Texan, after all."

I thought about it for a second, I had known about Ellie for a long time. Longer than I cared to let her know. And, while it was an uncomfortable topic for a long time, it never changed how I saw her. My family had lived near Austin ever since I was born, and we were raised a little more liberal as a result; so it never really has changed my view of somebody. "As long as they don't hurt each other, I'm fine with it."

I felt something hit my knee cap. I stumbled and looked behind me. A man wearing Finnish uniform and a kevlar vest was glaring at me, he looked like he was about to pounce at the movement from me, "Shut up, American," he growled.

I nodded and started walking again, abiding by his order. People towards the front of the line began panicking and trying to run back, but the desperate rebellion was crushed almost immediately by the soldiers. During this, the flood of people in front of me gave way and I saw our destination. A massive military complex with guard towers and fencing wrapped around several buildings.

I glanced at Brandon out of the corner of my eye, and from his expression, I could tell he saw it too. I was about to say something to him, when something was pulled over my face. "You don't go in with everyone else." A voice hissed in my ear. I started desperately clawing at the material, which I figured out was cloth, my attempts were made more futile by the handcuffs. "Stop fighting, old man. It's hopeless."

I don't know how long that bag was over my head; but it was off when I woke up, tied to a chair. My thoughts were muddled, my brain felt swollen, my vision seemed slightly grainy, and sounds seemed muted. With this information, I started looking around for any information on where in the complex I am in. Unfortunately, the only thing I could see was the concrete floor under me, the wooden chair I'm in, and the orange jumpsuit put me in at some point. The only light source was a dim lightbulb dangling above me.

A door somewhere behind me opened. I tried to turn to look at the sound of heavy footsteps, but the angle was all wrong.

A light across from me turned on to reveal two figures, each with a bag over their heads and wearing horrifyingly familiar clothes, tied to a couple chairs. One had striped pajama bottoms on with a black long-sleeved shirt and gray t-shirt. The other wore a pair of filthy jeans along with a black thermal and a red shirt with a palm tree on it. The heavy footsteps started again. This time, a British voice accompanied them. "Joel Miller… you have no idea why you are here, do you?"

I glared in the direction it came from, demanding its owner come out of the dark. "I got some notion." I growled, trying not to let them realize how unsettling it was for a completely unknown person to know both my first and last names. "Who are you?"

He chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, "I don't think you're the one who's supposed to be making demands." The man was wearing a black collared shirt and a white undershirt, a pair of jeans, and hiking boots. His physical appearance showed he hasn't had much experience with the fungus; his short, gray hair was clean of any grime or sweat and was combed, his skin was clear of any cuts or scars and was an unnaturally pale shade. The man had a metal necklace on that shined in the light. When he got close enough for me to see it, I noticed the larger metal pendant in the center had writing on it.

_**Ivan Groves**_

_**0001**_

He saw me reading it and smirked, walking towards the two people across from me. "You ever heard the phrase, 'an eye for an eye,' Joel?"

I got a sick feeling in my stomach, and the tone he used only worsened it. I started struggling to get out of the restraints, causing him to laugh. "Oh, Joel," His voice was dripping with mock disappointment, "I really thought you of all people would know when you're beat. But, I guess anybody who got out of Phoenix alive wouldn't give up easily."

I froze. Its been about seventeen years since the Infected hit Phoenix, Arizona. "How the hell do know I was in Arizona?"

His lips twisted into an animalistic grin, "Joel, remember, I'm the one in charge here. I can end you with just a simple blink. In here, _I own you_." He walked behind the two figures and grabbed both hoods, then pulled them off.

I choked at the sight of the two girls. Ellie had more of a confused expression, and sported only a small cut on her cheek. Finally, She noticed she wasn't alone in this room when she saw me. "Joel, where are we?" She asked, but I didn't hear her.

I haven't seen Sarah outside of the nightmares for over twenty years. And here she is, alive. I could feel tears of happiness surfacing, followed by the same anger I felt towards the soldier that I thought killed her; and later in Salt Lake City with Ellie. The anger worsened when her expression morphed into one of pure fear. "D-daddy?"

"It's okay, baby girl, I'm right here! I'll- I'll figure a way out of this for us…"

Ivan chuckled evilly, "Oh, Joel, why do you lie to your own blood? To your own _child_?"

I glared at him, "_How the hell do you know who she is?_" I snarled at him. Not only is he threatening to kill Ellie, but my own daughter as well. He's as good as dead when I get out of this chair.

He waved a scalpel he pulled out of his jeans, "Ah ah ah, remember, I'm the one asking questions." He pulled the scalpel along Sarah's forehead, leaving a thin red line behind it, and making her struggle against the restraints. "So, I'll ask once more. Have you ever heard the phrase, 'an eye for an eye'?"

I sighed heavily, sagging my shoulders. "Yes."

"Oh, good. So I don't have to explain that. But, you killed Marlene in Salt Lake City, Utah almost three years ago."

I swallowed, I didn't remember seeing him at the Hospital; but that didn't mean he didn't show up and see me leaving. How the hell did he know this much about me, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit." His voice went hard, "You've been fighting against your guilt all these years." He went over to Ellie and cut her forehead as well, "Anyways… eye for an eye. You killed one of the most important people to me; and now, I kill one of the two most important people to you."

Sarah screamed and struggled harder, while Ellie's eyes widened and she went pale, "Joel… you-you'll get us out of this, right?"

Ivan looked down at both of them with complete amusement, "Sorry kiddies, but I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done. One of you are not going to leave here." He looked back at me, the monster was trying unsuccessfully to hide just how much he was enjoying this. "But, there is one problem, I can't figure out which one." He leaned down in between them, a hand resting on one of their shoulders. He smiled cruelly, "So you need to tell me: Whose brain should I remove?"


End file.
